An African In Moscow

My departure from London was nothing short of drama. I dare say it out loud, I’m not one to make a quiet exit. The weeks following preparation for destination Moscow were emotionally draining, I had many emotional breakdowns, things just not going my way. I was utterly broke and needed money for so many other little things (tying down the loose ends). More so I was trying to say goodbye to a lifestyle and city I’ve grown to call my second home for the last six years. I was also not mentally ready to be apart from my wonderful boyfriend and best friend.

To say I wast utterly overwhelmed, emotionally, spiritually and physically drained, would be just an understatement. I was a mess and i had to try to keep it together for everyone’s sake

Everything around me was happening in slow motion and I couldn’t fathom,let alone imagine, what lay ahead of me. I was leaving London for Moscow. An unbelievable opportunity for both my career and self growth was propelling me, literally to this foreign land. A land I’ve heard many a great things and not so great things about it.

The days before my departure, I would secretly cry, thinking about the decision I have just made. In many ways the decision to go to Moscow was already written in my “stars”, it was to be done. I spend the last day getting drunk with my housemates and the rest of the night till my morning flight, crying with my beloved. The journey to London Heathrow was as somber, almost like there was a death. Disbelieve enveloped us.

As i sat in the tube carriage, falling half asleep and thinking if I packed the right clothes, the right shoes, my passports, my heart hadn’t said goodbye to London. So right then and there, I made a promise to myself, that even though I’ve decided to take on this extreme adventure, to one of the coldest places in the world both in it’s politics and it’s weather, I will be kind and patient to MYSELF and I will always remember that I have a home in London and in Johannesburg.  I haven’t quiet yet said goodbye to my beloved London.

So given my very dramatic introduction, I have decided to map out this one year of growth in Moscow. It will be a tale of many adventures (you can count on that) and certainly a tale of three cities I will now call home. Johannesburg, London and Moscow. I believe everyone has a story and my story perhaps isn’t that unique but if it puts a smile on your face or gives you the heads up on what Moscow is about, then well, it’s been worth jotting it down. My opinions and thoughts, my musings, my trials, my tribulations, my up and downs and my triumphs both as a working journalist in Moscow and as a new member of this city, will be raw and uncensored.

Welcome to an African in Moscow, a journey of black snow, of the only black in the white pool, braving a world so far from what she knows. This is my own voice.

Let’s enjoy the ride together.


Black Snow 🙂

PS: I like to hear form you, so share the blog and please leave your thoughts and comments. They are very much appreciated.


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